Veírhun ór sá Sólar-Setr
Veírhun was a human male born forty-three years ago on the scavenger vessel Sólar-Setr. Though he was the son of an honest freighter captain and a retired Republic hero, Veírhun's path led him down a far darker road. Biography Early Life Parents Veírhun was born on a ship in the Scrapper's Fleet, a nomadic community of space-faring vessels that survived by scavenging and selling (or reusing) what everyone else labeled "space junk." His mother was a Mirialan named Viqra, and she met his father, Marnir, after retiring from service in the Republic military. She was at a spaceport bar waiting for a vessel to take her to live her cousin on Alderaan when ships from the Scrapper's Fleet came in to port. Marnir, already a captain of his own Fleet vessel, met Viqra at the bar and they talked for hours. At the end, Viqra realized she'd missed her flight. Marnir revealed that the Scrapper's Fleet was passing near Alderaan anyway and that he could take her. By the time she got to Alderaan, they'd fallen in love and she soon moved in on his ship. They wed not long after, and Viqra took Marnir's ship name as her surname as was the custom of the Fleet: Viqra ór sá Sólar-Setr, meaning "Viqra of the Setting Sun." Siblings Veírhun was the third of Viqra and Marnir's children. The oldest child, Audun, was twelve years old by the time Veírhun was born, and the middle child, Asmund, was ten. Audun took after their mother from an early age and aspired to be a soldier in the Republic military. Asmund, conversely, fell in love with the Fleet as soon as he understood it and chose to follow in his father's footsteps. Life on the Scrapper's Fleet Veírhun was born to the Fleet and lived and breathed it every moment, throwing himself to the duties even small children were required to undertake. Veírhun excelled at almost every task required of him, learning the ins and outs of his fathers ship and others he did work on with little effort. With a retired soldier for a mother, a brawler for a father, and two far older brothers, Veírhun quickly learned to fight - and he was good at it. Veírhun took pride in his victories, and in moving his way up the food chain amongst the children of the Fleet. Before he'd even turned 15, he was leading hunting parties on unsettled planets and adding trophies to his traditional garb. Many adults agreed that Veírhun would become a captain of his own vessel by 20 - one of the youngest captains in the Fleet in its history. Some even suspected he could lead the fleet one day. Leaving the Fleet Veírhun, however, was never quite happy on the fleet. He never felt so alive as when he was in a fight, but found too few challenges on the Fleet. When the Fleet found a port willing to take them in, Veírhun would often seek out fights among the strangers present. It wasn't long before this got him into trouble. On his 18th birthday, Veírhun fought the wrong man. The son of a local politician had had one too many drinks and thought he'd mock the young Scrapper. Veírhun was only too happy to take this as a challenge and beat the man soundly. The man's father was outraged and, playing on existing biases, arranged to have the Scrapper's Fleet banned from the planet. The Fleet Commander, Dag ór sá Ginnung Hundr, was likewise outraged. Veírhun had cost the Fleet immensely, removing yet another port from those willing to trade with and service them. There were few things one could do to be banned from the Fleet, but costing it a resource so valuable was among them. Veírhun was banned from the Fleet and was told he could no longer use his ship name. Veírhun had no choice to accept the exile, but refused to stop using his family's ship name. Taking the few things he truly owned, Veírhun was dropped off on Alderaan, where his aunt had offered to board him until he could sort himself out. A Career in Violence Unable to Change Veírhun's aunt soon proved incapable of training his Scrapper's ways out of him. Veírhun had long since developed a code that he lived by stringently - fight who he thought might provide a challenge for him to prove his dominance and assert superiority, respect those who fought honorably, damage those who tried to run or "cheat" (brought in weapons Veírhun couldn't, namely). He would not, however, fight the person he believed to be necessary to maintaining his lifestyle until and unless he believed he'd be able to take on their responsibilities, so he never challenged his aunt. She gave up anyway, turning Veírhun out on the streets for his violent ways. Finding His Calling Veírhun refused to let life grind him down, however. He soon learned about House Rist's less legal activities and quickly earned himself a place in their ranks by doing what he did best. Veírhun made an impression on the House and its allies for his ruthlessness and loyalty, quickly moving up in ranks before being offered a position as an armed guard on one of Rist's smuggler's freighters. The Pirate Assault The smuggler he was assigned to eventually did a deal with an infamous arms dealer, Apok'pineg. While the smuggler was carrying Apok'pineg's wares, the ship was attacked by a bold pirate. The smuggler tried to surrender the weapons to the pirate in exchange for his life, which Veírhun refused to allow. Veírhun systematically murdered everyone on the pirate's crew, though how he managed it remained a mystery to everyone aboard the ship. A Twi'lek with powerful connections in the Hutt Cartel, Apok'pineg was impressed that Veírhun had protected the cargo and managed to murder so many attackers almost single-handedly. Apok'pineg offered Veírhun a job as one of his personal guards and enforcers, and Veírhun accepted. His first task was to kill the smuggler for trying to give away Apok'pineg's guns. Veírhun wrapped his hands around the smuggler's throat and choked him to death. The Fall Veírhun's first act as one of Apok'pineg's guards was to challenge each of his other guards to fistfights. He quickly managed to best all but one of them - a Zabrak named Brano. The two of them fought each other to a standstill, eventually both collapsing from exhaustion. While recovering in the med bay, the two bonded quickly and became like brothers. Together they headed Apok'pineg's security forces, and his operations had never been safer - and, in the event that Apok'pineg ordered an assault, they had never been deadlier. Two years or so in, again on Veírhun's birthday, Brano failed to show up to his post. Veírhun asked several members of the security forces about it, but couldn't get a word from any of them, even after threatening injury or death. Veírhun took his questions to Apok'pineg, his worries quickly fermenting into preemptive anger. Apok'pineg was not abashed with his answer: Brano had been executed for eavesdropping on a clandestine meeting between himself and a Hutt Cartel official. Veírhun lost all control and immediately assaulted Apok'pineg. Unfortunately for him, though he'd won his battles against the other security officers when facing them one-on-one, he could not overcome them all at once. Apok'pineg was furious, but knew that he couldn't have both of his most senior guards executed within a day of each other, both for moral and loyalty and for stability. The arms dealer offered "mercy," sending Veírhun to the Hutts to fight in gladiatorial battles for the rest of his life. The Foundation Salvation Veírhun did well in his battles, fueled by a lifetime of combat and by his immense hatred for Apok'pineg. But he couldn't keep it up forever, and he knew it. On the day he believed he'd die in the ring, his battle was canceled. He and several others among the most deadly were corralled into a stark room full of metal tables and chairs and had tests done on them - blood was drawn, measurements taken, strengths tested. Veírhun knew this might be an opportunity to avoid an early grave, but felt he would be unable to escape this well-guarded room. So he ensured he stood out among the other gladiators in every test he could influence. Eventually a silver-haired man of average height and build entered the room. The gladiators were lined up against a wall and every weapon in the room was trained on them. Several feet before each gladiator, a hologram was projected that mirrored them. The silver man walked from hologram to hologram, accessing information in each as casually as if decided which cut of meat to purchase from the market. Some holograms he would mark green, and others red. When he arrived at Veírhun's hologram, the man inspected it for far less time than the others before marking it red. Veírhun snarled, feeling his lifeline slipping away, and leapt into action. He assaulted the nearest guard, wrestling his rifle away and placing several precise shots into the other weapons in the room. Those that didn't explode were rendered useless, and Veírhun took his chance, running from guard to guard and slaying each in turn. As soon as every guard was dead, Veírhun turned to the silver man and told him that if he left Veírhun behind, he would be making a mistake. More guards rushed in, but the silver man stopped them from shooting Veírhun with a simple gesture. He introduced himself as Sal Vantu and shook Veírhun's hand, seeming not to notice that it was dripping blood. With a smile that chilled even Veírhun's boiling blood, Sal turned away, marking Veírhun's hologram as green and left without inspecting any further gladiators. Condemnation Veírhun and the other gladiators marked green were taken to a luxurious ship where they were fed and allowed to bathe themselves before being assigned their own personal quarters. They were on the ship for two days before it landed on Manaan. Veírhun and the other gladiators were taken to a series of labs where they were prepped for medical operations. Veírhun realized that they were going to be experimented on, but knew he had no chance of escape. He instead became determined that he would not die. He would survive Sal's experimentation and would get revenge on him and Apok'pineg. Several times during his preparation, he saw a Twi'lek woman with Sal discussing alterations and specifications for something they called "nanites". He memorized her face and managed to overhear her name (Jaevri Sadek), committing her to memory as another to seek vengeance on for the injustices he was being prepared for. He was brought to a large room with the other gladiators and each was laid on a table with nothing but space dividing them. He was put under anesthesia for the surgery, but emerged from his slumber several times during the procedure, much to his regret. During this brief lucid moments, Veírhun watched his fellow gladiators writhing in pain. Several of them turned to gray dust before his eyes, and rather than panic or try to save them their doctors simply scooped the dust into sample containers and put them in storage crates. Veírhun saw, during several of his lucid moments, his own flesh waver and turn gray briefly. Each time, his rage seethed and he would concentrate on just surviving, despite the immense pain and horror that coursed through him. Eventually, the darkness took him and did not let him go. He awoke days later and knew immediately that something was wrong. He could sense the bed beneath him, the sheets above him, but he couldn't feel how soft they were. He pinched his arm and felt pressure, but no pain. He stroked his arms and felt no comfort, merely a touch. Veírhun realized he no longer felt pleasure or pain, and in despair he smashed a mirror in his recovery room - and watched in horrified fascination as glass shards were pushed from his flesh by some unseen force. The wounds did not bleed, but instead glowed a soft gray and healed within seconds. Resignation Veírhun was soon brought to see Sal, and for once he ignored the armed guards and the chances of survival. He dashes towards Sal with the intent of squeezing the life from him, but several feet away found he couldn't move closer. Sal raised a hand to keep his guards from firing, and Veírhun snarled and tried again from a different angle. Again, he was stopped by some unseen force. Sal explained that he was the only survivor of the operation and that it had succeeded beyond all expectation. He explained that nanites, microscopic robots, had been introduced to Veírhun's bloodstream. They were programmed to accelerate healing and slow aging, but seemed to react poorly once injected. The other gladiators' nanites had over-reproduced, consuming their bodies to use as fuel for replication. In Veírhun, however, the nanites had replaced his blood entirely, but otherwise worked as intended. The nanites healed otherwise grievous wounds in seconds, enhanced his strength and speed, and likely had slowed his aging to a crawl. Their uses had gone even further, however. Given their numbers and how far within Veírhun they had spread, the nanites could be remotely reprogrammed to stop Veírhun from taking certain actions Sal deemed "improper." For one, Veírhun could not assault Sal or the higher-ups in the Foundation, Sal's crime syndicate. If he tried, the nanites would freeze his muscles, both disabling him a safe distance from his target and stopping him from aiming weapons at them. After Veírhun worked as an Lieutenant in the Foundation, and when he wasn't tasked with guarding or killing someone he worked primarily as a Gatekeeper - one of the Foundation's lead recruiters. He remained furious at what was essentially his slavery, but on many levels appreciated and enjoyed his work. The Foundation had few scruples, allowing Veírhun to use his brutal tactics to the benefit of his "employers". Skills, Tools, and Abilities Veírhun was immensely experienced in combat and managed to use a great many things to assist him. Skills Veírhun was a skilled brawler, wrestler, and martial artist from a young age due to the training (formal and informal) he received from his parents, brothers, and other elders. He was also proficient with most forms of blasters and blades, though he preferred assault cannons when he couldn't use his hands. Tools While he preferred using his hands to disable or kill, Veírhun also used an immense assault cannon when necessary. His armor was light but durable, and was adorned with horns and teeth of beasts he'd slain during hunting expeditions in his time with the Scrapper's Fleet. On one of these expeditions, Veírhun captured a young n exu and trained it as a mount and as a hunting/combat companion. He named the nexu "Valdr", meaning "Powerful One" and "Wolf". Valdr has since born a cub, which Veírhun had named "Skálm", or "Short Sword". Abilities The nanites injected into Veírhun granted him far greater strength and speed than he had already attained, which was no mean feat. His healing was lightning-fast, able to heal a hole through his hand within seconds. However, there were limits. He could heal only so much before the nanites were drawn too thin and needed to reproduce to heal him further. Veírhun could take a mortal wound and survive, but he'd likely be crippled to some degree for it until the nanites were replenished. Eating would help the nanites reproduce faster, and using healing salves like kolto allowed them to heal him more efficiently. Personality Veírhun valued combat ability above all else. He would get into frequent brawls and fights just to see if he could win against what he viewed as a worthy opponent. Though as a younger man he could almost be described as "jolly," even during a fight, after his stint as a gladiator for the Hutts he rarely wore anything but a snarl on his face - particularly after becoming "employed" with the Foundation. Appearance Aside from his perpetual scowl, Veírhun was attractive by most standards. He was about 6'8" tall and was 280 pounds of solid muscle. He had long, flowing golden hair and a well-kept matching beard. His eyes were as golden as his hair, a mutation from his mixed parentage. He had a red tattoo around one eye, a brand from the Scrapper's Fleet signifying his exile. After the nanites were injected, his favored casual wear was typically open and airy, with fingerless gloves and an open trench coat with no shirt being his favored outfit. While he had worn some light armor as a mercenary and enforcer before, the nanites (and the rapid healing and increased strength that they provided) made it burdensome and often unnecessary. He also enjoyed the dominance such clothing often afforded him, allowing surrounding beings to see his muscles and his lack of worry. When on official business, however, he wears the traditional garb of a Scrapper in defiance of the Fleet's exile. It's adorned with teeth and horns of beasts killed on various hunting expeditions.